


Still Alive. (Revenant!Trafalgar Law x Reader)

by crapitskizaru



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, undead law, yay halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20880893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crapitskizaru/pseuds/crapitskizaru
Summary: “What is there to be scared of? What’s the danger?” you ask. “Pumpkins? Plastic decorations?”He chuckles. “I suppose you’re not one to be scared of monsters under your bed.”“There’s no proof they exist.”“What if there was one?”





	Still Alive. (Revenant!Trafalgar Law x Reader)

The untold numbers of ghosts, vampires, and zombies casually passing by slowly start to feel overwhelming, but you keep your cool nonetheless; your alcoholic drink lost somewhere among the tables, untouched.

As your gaze dozes off, you start to wonder. How would life be if those weren’t costumes? If the world was indeed filled with the supernatural and the unearthly, as most of us dream about. If there was something more to the blunt reality we know and are forced to live in.

Naturally, if any of your theories were true, you wouldn’t be standing among the monsters as calmly as you are now. Their teeth, fangs, claws, and hands would be trying to reach you, devour you, kill you. So maybe things aren’t as bad as it may seem in that blunt reality of yours.

You flinch, taken by surprise, as Ace bares his fangs at you. “Those are killing my gums!” he mewls, mouth opening wide to specifically show you what he’s talking about. “See? Are they bleeding already?”

“You don’t have to wear them,” you sigh as he leans against the counter beside you. “It’s quite obvious you’re a vampire.”

The frills on Ace’s seemingly old-time suit keep on shuffling with each of his enthusiastic movements, a huge jewel on his chest and a top hat being ruffled between his quick fingers - all of the masquerade crowned by dried-up blood smeared on the boy’s face and neck.

He gasps dramatically. “What kind of vampire doesn’t have fangs? I’d rather bleed out than take those off.”

“Then suffer.” You cut him short and reach for the orange juice he was sipping on. “It’s not like anyone cares about costumes anymore.”

The moaning mass of your friends sprawled on the floor in the living room only confirming your words, the pungent smell of vodka lingering in the air and irritating your nose. The party seems to be coming to an unpleasant end.

“What do you mean? They’ll sober up soon,” Ace smirks. “I still have scary video games, horror movies queued on Netflix, eyeballs for the eyeball race, pumpkins and knives, toilet paper-”

“Toilet paper?”

“For mummy-making.” He seems surprised that you needed an explanation. “And a whole bunch of balloons to pop.”

Before your brain can comprehend this huge amount of confusing information, you decide it’d be far better to catch a quick breath outside - away from the alcoholic stench.

Throwing Ace a short excuse, you storm off into the chilly air of the night, able to take a deep, clean inhale. There is a feeling of excitement as your lungs are filled with the distant smell of rain and damp forest that grows near Ace’s house. The night of Halloween is always the pleasant one in your memories.

The closer you get to the edge of the woods, the more they seem to draw you in, replacing the dizzy state in your mind with calmness.

And yet, something is not right. Something lingers at the back of your head, in the corner of your eye, at the bottom of your stomach, but you cannot place just what it is.

At least until you spot a figure standing not that far away, leaning against a tree. Without seeing their face, you know their eyes are on you.

“Hey?” you start, walking closer. “Not a fan of parties?”

Ace has a ton of friends, but this one you can’t make out. And you are sure you would have remembered meeting him before - with the tall figure, dark hair and sharp gaze, he’s not the type to be forgotten easily.

“Too loud,” he says without moving his eyes from you. “Too many people.”

The moon is not your ally tonight; without its light, you find it difficult to check out the stranger further and possibly nag Ace with questions about him later.

For one thing, the lighting is not needed. The pale shade of his skin strikes your eyes, dividing his figure from the black extent of the forest behind his back. So pale it resembles more a moribund patient just as death is about to take them than a normal teenager.

“Cold.” You shudder in the frigid air. He’s not showing any signs of the cool bothering him, however, despite wearing only a button-up shirt. “How are you not freezing your ass out here?”

He sends you a sad smile. “I’m just used to it.”

That was it - no more words, no follow-up questions, no interest. You start to think you’d prefer Ace’s company over this guy’s, even if the goon is probably laying in his own vomit at this point.

“Well then, good for you. I guess I’ll go ba-”

“No,” he says sharply, taking a step forward. “No, please. Stay.”

There is a harsh tone in his voice, one that doesn’t leave any space for negotiations. With a hint of hunger? You disregard the thought immediately. How can someone sound hungry?

“Uh, okay. Are you alright?”

“Yes…Yes. Just…this particular night always gets me.”

“Oh, it’s amazing.” You breathe in the cold air. “Out of this world.”

Your words seem to amuse him as he drags his hand along the spruce trunk slowly. Only after a few seconds, you notice he did it to cover the fact that he’s gotten even closer.

“Some believe the night of Halloween is the most dangerous one in the year,” he starts, fixing his gaze on you, taking in your whole frame. “And what do you think?”

“What is there to be scared of? What’s the danger?” you ask. “Pumpkins? Plastic decorations?”

He chuckles. “I suppose you’re not one to be scared of monsters under your bed.”

“There’s no proof they exist.”

“What if there _was _one?”

You start to think his sad smile feels unnatural. But, now that he’s definitely closer than before, you can see the smoothness of his skin, the darkness of his irises and the irresistible aura around him, one that tells you to take a step forward.

“I’d want to see it,” you whisper, furrowing your eyebrows while admiring the man. He’s still hidden in the shadow of the woods, his expression curious and fixed on you.

“So…_close_,” he mutters, reaching up with his hand as if to cup your cheek. But then his eyes flutter, you can see him retreating into the dark. “Ah. My apologies.”

You are about to ask just what he was apologizing for, but instead, your thoughts focus on the way the corners of his mouth lift up again, how soft his lips look. You want to know how they would feel on yours.

“I just wanted to feel you.” His voice turns almost inaudible, spoken in a hushed tone, but you don’t blame him.

Shooting your surroundings a quick glance, there’s no one in sight, the party noises somewhat muffled when coming from the direction of the house, as if you are hearing them through thick glass.

And so you are not worried about a thing when your legs push you forward towards the darkness and onto the stranger, your mouth catching his in a shallow manner. It’s not supposed to be passionate or emotional - much rather it is curious, discovering, full of interest.

Instead of surprised, he seems overwhelmed, but he doesn’t break away; you indulge into the sensation, open up your senses to the softness of the affection, the close proximity of another person, the blood rushing in your ears.

“Tell me how it feels then,” you mumble into the kiss and, without waiting for a reply, dive right back into him.

But then you feel his movements turn greedy, hungry, as he reaches forward to claim your lips deeper. Your hands find themselves traveling up his arms and slipping into his hair, noses brushing against each other, tongues touching.

You are not aware of anything other than the way he _feels_; that is, until his chest presses up to yours and you lose your balance, forced to take a step back and through the border of the forest, straight into the moonlight that seeps through the clouds.

His whole body tenses under your touch and you use it as an opportunity to pull back and catch a quick breath - an action you immediately regret, your gasp ends up muffled by your palm.

It’s like he had been replaced during those few seconds when you kissed. The skin you trailed with your fingers now covered in blisters, its shade turned sickly and ill, the eyes you stared so deeply into bleary and fogged over, the lips you caressed dried up.

This time there’s no question to the way he looks at you - hungry, ravenous, starved.

The moonlight reflects in his white eyes. “Makes me wish I was still alive.”


End file.
